


I'm not his bitch

by beedlethecat



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prison, Friends with benefits but not really, Hate Sex, I wouldn't say the violence is /too/ bad, M/M, idk judge for yourself
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-10
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-03 21:20:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1757317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beedlethecat/pseuds/beedlethecat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Liam and Zayn are cellmates who hate each other, Louis likes to antagonize the dashing young guard, and Niall just wants everyone to get along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The sexual tension is strong with this one

**Author's Note:**

> so this is my first foray into writing an actual chaptered fic and i'm shitting it a little bit so feedback would be awesome
> 
> smut will make an appearance in chapter 2 or maybe 3 idk yet
> 
> i hope this is to your liking
> 
> also it contains casual mentions of rape/non-con but none of the characters in this story get involved in anything which isn't fully consensual on both sides

"C'mon, it's cold as fuck outside," the guard, _Horan_ , his nametag announced, ushered Zayn out of the van. Zayn climbed out, grateful for the opportunity to stretch his legs. The ride over had been a long one and he felt cramped up from sitting in the same position for hours.

"Sorry about the handcuffs, mate." Horan said sympathetically, "regulations and all, y'know?"

"Yeah, fine." Zayn muttered distractedly, staring up at the prison as he clutched his little bag of belongings. It was a huge, one level building, with high fences topped with barbed wire surrounding it. It looked terribly scruffy and Zayn could definitely imagine being brutally beaten to death in there.

Horan placed his hand on Zayn's arm and guided him up the path to the main doors. He pressed the buzzer beside the door and a slow, deep voice crackled over the intercom. "Hello?"

"It's me." Horan called cheerfully. "I'm here with a new prisoner."

"Niall, hey. Come in." The door buzzed open and Horan- no, Niall, Zayn corrected mentally, lead Zayn inside. "So you have to go through checks and get your stuff before I can take you to your cell," Niall began, "but once you're done I'll take you straight there and give you a rundown of the rules and stuff." He grinned widely at Zayn.

Zayn sighed. Niall seemed nice, and he was sure at any other time he'd find his company entertaining, but right now Zayn was feeling ruffled and overwhelmed with this whole 'going to jail' bullshit, and he didn't have the strength to be polite. "Okay, right."

"Right happy one you are," Niall muttered, but he didn't sound too bothered. He moved on ahead of Zayn, chatting away, but Zayn tuned him out. God, it was hard to believe he'd ended up here. It could be an incredibly shitty experience, or it could be relatively okay, depending on how he got on with other inmates. He was fairly sure he could hold his own in a fight against somebody his own size, but if some huge bodybuilder type dude decided to pick a fight with him, Zayn was basically fucked. Hopefully no big guy would take a shine to him and try to make him their prison wife, because then he'd be screwed for sure, and hopefully not in the disgustingly literal sense.

He was shaken out of his thoughts when Niall stopped in front of a door, freed him of the handcuffs and gestured for him to go inside. "I'll be waiting for you when you're done." He smiled brightly.

Zayn nodded. "Yeah, bye." He escaped into the room with a vague sense of relief.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He left the room a short while later, wearing the horrifically orange uniform and holding a bundle of blankets and toiletries the guy had given him, as well as the belongings he'd been allowed to keep. He was feeling thoroughly poked and prodded and even a little bruised from the thorough physical examination.

"How did it go?" Niall asked immediately. Had he waited outside the whole time?

Zayn winced. "He really did a number on me."

Niall laughed. "Yeah, he likes to make sure nobody's bringing anything they shouldn't here."

If Zayn hadn't been talking to a prison guard he would have laughed sarcastically, but he didn't know if Niall's good cheer extended to being mocked. Instead he hefted his stuff and asked, "do I have to have a cellmate?"

"Yeah." Niall said apologetically. "Almost everyone has a cellmate. Apart from, y'know, the ones who've murdered lots of people and can't be trusted in a social environment."

Zayn eyed him, but Niall didn't seem to be joking. "Right."

Niall clapped his shoulder. "Let's go. Your cellmate just lost his previous roomie, so we have an opening for ya."  
"Why did he lose his cellmate?" Zayn asked suspiciously. He probably killed him.

"They, er, didn't get along." Niall was vague.

Oh, yeah, that didn't sound worrisome at all. "What's he like?"

"Payne?" Niall asked. "He's difficult to get along with, but I'm sure you'll like him well enough once you get to know him."

"How many cellmates has he had?" Zayn asked, feeling a little apprehensive of the answer.

"As of the last one, I think maybe twenty?" Niall guessed. Seeing Zayn's expression, he hurried to add, "he didn't drive all of them away, mind. A few finished their sentences, so. There's that."

A few. How many is a few? Like 3? "But he got rid of most of them?"

"He didn't kill anyone." Niall sidestepped the question. "You'll be fine."

Zayn sighed. Maybe he wouldn't get out of this in one piece after all. "So, what are the rules?" He made a feeble attempt to change the subject, and Niall latched on with an air of relief.

"There aren't many rules here. Getting into fights gets you put in solitary, killing people gets you locked up somewhere much worse. Wake up call's at 6, roll call 6 thirty, breakfast at 7," he listed off. "You can shower during breakfast or dinner, which is at 5, or in your free time. Lunch is at 12. You'll be working from 8 'til 11:45. Freetime is from 1 until 4. At 4 there might be activities or groups if you've got anger management and such. From 6 until 7 you're allowed out in the yard for exercise and whatnot. At 7 you've got more free time. Then at 8 it's evening roll call, which is in your cell. After that, you stay in your cell until morning. Lights off at 11." Niall grinned. "Sound simple?"

 _No_. "I think I got it." Zayn said doubtfully. Whatever, he could probably just follow Payne around if he forgot where to go.

"Okay, here we are. It's-" Niall checked his watch as they stopped outside an open cell "- 2 forty, so everyone's off doing their own thing. Just hang around here for a bit, maybe go to the library if you want books or whatever. At 4 just head to the rec room, someone can show you the way there." He clapped his hands together. "I think we're done here. Just pop in and introduce yourself." He gave Zayn one last smile and headed off down the corridor.

Zayn steeled himself. Okay. Oh god, Payne was probably a monster who'd beat him into a pulp the minute he showed signs of not being completely psychotic and apathetic.

Before he could work himself into a proper freak out, he walked into the cell. Payne was lying on the bottom bunk, flipping idly through a newspaper. And he... wasn't _quite_ what Zayn had been expecting. He wasn't covered in tattoos. Zayn could only make out a few small ones on his arms from this angle, but it was entirely possible that he could have a bloody murder scene tattooed on his back or something.  
He looked roughly the same size as Zayn. And he wasn't ridiculously bulky. He was very obviously fit and muscular, but not to an unbelievable degree. He could still clearly beat Zayn in a fight, but maybe Zayn stood a chance to at least protect himself until someone came and dragged him to safety.  
Payne had a shadow of stubble on his jaw, and he had brown eyes, which were currently staring with hostility at Zayn.

Zayn hurriedly looked away and headed over to the bunk, acting as though Payne wasn't glaring a hole through him. He dumped his bedclothes and personal effects on the floor and made his bed, then crawled into it. He'd always thought people preferred the top bunk, but he wasn't going to complain or question it.

He had a few minutes of blessed silence before Payne spoke up.

"Who the fuck are you?"

"Zayn." Zayn answered, before realizing Payne probably meant his surname. "Uh, Zayn Malik."

Payne didn't respond, and Zayn lay for a few more minutes in discomfort before he decided he was going to go to the library. If he was going to spend a currently undetermined amount of time with a possible murderer, he might as well have something to read.

He fought the urge to glance back, but he was sure he could feel Payne's eyes on him as he left.  
A quick look into the cell opposite revealed that it was empty, and Zayn noticed only one of the bunks were made up. So the cell only had one occupant. Great. Zayn was going to live opposite a mass murderer or something.

It took him about twenty minutes to find the library. He had avoided all the inmates he came across, feeling like his orange uniform made him a fucking beacon to the beige-clad prisoners.

The library was a fairly small room, but it did have shelves. Most of them looked like nonfiction.

Zayn got a few glances as he moved along the aisles, but nobody looked at him twice.

At the back of the library, there were a few beaten up boxes, and when Zayn lifted the flap of one of them he was pleasantly surprised to find comics. They were rather tattered, but they looked like they were all mostly whole.

After a brief look around, Zayn came to the conclusion that nobody was here to moderate how many comics he took, so he grabbed an armful and left, averting his eyes from everyone he came across on the way.

When he got back to his cell, Payne was sitting up, and Zayn cursed inwardly. If he didn't have anything better to do, he was pretty likely to turn to Zayn for entertainment.

As Zayn moved towards the desk at the foot of the bunks to dump his finds, he could see Payne eyeing him and he hoped the desk was neutral ground. He had nowhere else except the dirty floor to put the comics, and they sure as hell weren't going there.

Thankfully, Payne let him put everything down without comment. But Zayn had only just grabbed a comic and climbed into his bunk when Payne spoke. "You're not gonna be here for long."

Was that a threat? "In prison?" Zayn asked optimistically.

"In this cell. Nobody ever manages to stay here for more than two months." Payne sounded matter of fact, like it was inevitable Zayn was going to beg to be transferred and leave him alone in peace again.

Zayn didn't know what to say. "I don't know what to say." He said.

Payne snorted, and Zayn could hear his bedsheets rustling as he moved around. He was probably lying down again. Zayn resumed reading his comic.

They had been like that for maybe 2 hours when the opposite cell's inmate returned. He didn't _look_ like a murderer. He was slightly shorter than Zayn, and his fluffy hair was styled into a quiff. His bare arms were covered in tattoos, but they didn't look very gang-like. His blue eyes were mischievous, and he waved at Payne as he approached the cell door.

"Liam, hi." He grinned.

Liam? That must be Payne's first name. Huh.

"Louis." Liam acknowledged.

"Who's this?" Louis asked. Before Zayn could even introduce himself, Liam butted in like the dick he was turning out to be.

"New cellmate." He muttered.

"Zayn." Zayn said pointedly.

Louis smiled at him with slightly sharky teeth. "You've got pretty eyes. Nice mouth, too."

Zayn stared at him.

"Leave off, Louis." Liam sounded tired, and Zayn was surprised at his apparently nice gesture.

Instead of looking irritated, Louis' smile widened as he walked backwards into his own cell. "Want him for yourself, do you? Good luck."

Liam gave a harsh laugh, and Zayn tensed. "What does he mean?"

"He means guys are probably going to try and fuck you, with or without your consent." Liam didn't sound particularly interested in talking to Zayn. Well, tough luck.

"And they're probably gonna fight over who gets to have you as their bitch." Liam added, sounding vindictive.

"If you're trying to scare me, it's not going to work." Zayn said uncertainly.

Liam got up and headed over to the cell door, clearly about to leave.

Zayn hesitated, then called out, "have you? Ever, uh, raped someone?"

Liam stopped, then turned around slowly. He met Zayn's eyes with an almost predatory smile. "I don't need to. They come to me. Begging."

Zayn scoffed. "Fuck off."

Liam smirked. "I'm not joking."

"Sure." Zayn said sarcastically.

Liam shrugged and left, calling out over his shoulder, "it's time for dinner, by the way."

Sure enough, a few seconds later, a bell rang, and inmates started moving off down the corridor.

Zayn followed the crowd, finding himself alongside Louis.

"So you're rooming with Liam, huh?" Louis asked.

Zayn nodded. He didn't know if he liked Louis yet. He seemed friendly enough, but his comment earlier had bothered Zayn, and he felt wary of the other inmate.

"What's he like?" Zayn asked on impulse.

Louis looked thoughtful. "He's nice enough, once you get to know him. He likes his space, I suppose. But he hates all of his cellmates and he'll do his best to drive you away."

Zayn gritted his teeth. Liam had made it very clear he didn't expect Zayn to last long, and as he showed off more and more of his stunning personality, Zayn grew more determined to stay and defy him.

Liam was probably his best bet for staying safe here, anyway. He had been pretty confident that he wouldn't ever need to resort to force to get someone into bed with him, so Zayn was reasonably sure that Liam wouldn't try anything with him. And at the moment, Liam was the only person Zayn felt moderately safe with.

Of course, there was always the possibility of Liam killing him, but what sort of killer had a feather tattoo?

"Why don't you have a cellmate?" Zayn asked Louis, in a weak attempt to distract himself.

Louis smiled. "A little money goes a long way. Everything has a price."

Zayn frowned. "You bought your way into a single cell?"

"That's right, my friend." Louis sounded pleased with himself. "No snoring, no cleaning up after someone else, no-" he wrinkled his nose "-listening to someone jerk off two feet away."

"Hold on, people actually do that?" Zayn asked, startled. He'd thought it was just something people made up about prisons, like the dropping the soap thing, though he supposed it was possible that that was true as well.

Louis grimaced. "Unfortunately."

"While their _cellmate_ is there?" Zayn couldn't help but clarify. There's no way he'd jerk off with an audience. Jesus christ, these people were animals.

Louis shrugged. "When else are you gonna do it? Can't do it in freetime, 'cause then everyone can see you going at it. Can't do it in a nice secluded corner, 'cause sooner or later someone's gonna come looking for you. And you can't do it during shower time. The showers aren't long enough for a good wank."

His logic was sound. But, still. "I'm not gonna do that."

"Oh, yeah?" Louis looked amused. "How long are you in for?"

"Five years." Zayn muttered reluctantly.

"Okay, so you wait until you haven't gotten off for, say, a month. You'll have blue balls so bad you'd jerk off in the middle of a crowded room."

Against his will, Zayn laughed. "I doubt that."

Louis shrugged, unconcerned. "Maybe more than a month, then. But eventually you'll have more to worry about than Liam hearing you come."

Zayn glanced at him, alarmed, but they were already at the mess hall, so he couldn't enquire further because Louis strolled off to the front of the queue for food, cutting in without even looking at his fellow criminals.

"Fuck me sideways." Zayn muttered to himself as he joined the queue.

"That can be arranged." Someone said behind him, and Zayn turned to see a balding, practically toothless guy leering at him.

Zayn narrowed his eyes. "You can fuck right off, mate."

The man licked his lips, and Zayn turned back around with a shudder. Ew.

The food, when he finally got it, was utter shit. It was horrifically grey and sloppy and there were unidentifiable hunks of meat in it. What was it, a stew? Soup? God knows.

But Zayn had to eat it. There was nothing else on offer, and he was probably going to be stuck with eating this crap until he got out, so he might as well start getting used to it.

Once he finished forcing the disgusting slop down his throat, Zayn tried to remember what Niall had said was next on the schedule. Exercise outside. Was it mandatory? Probably.

Zayn went back to his cell anyway. He saw he wasn't the only one as he passed other cells, and he was feeling relieved as he got back to his own cell.

His relief disappeared at the sight of Liam sitting on Zayn's bed, flipping through his journal. The journal which had been in his bag, the contents of which were strewn over Liam's bed.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Zayn snapped, snatching the little book out of Liam's hands. It wasn't even an intensely personal journal. It was the principle of the thing that mattered. He couldn't believe Liam had the nerve to root through his stuff.

"It's not like you tried to hide it." Liam said, as if that was a reasonable excuse.

"Because I didn't think you'd fucking look through my stuff!" Zayn hissed. He started picking his stuff up off Liam's bed and returning it to his bag, his jaw clenched.

"Who's Waliyha?" Liam asked conversationally.

Zayn ignored his question, putting the bag back on the floor. "Get out of my bed."

Liam smiled, and it was the first time Zayn had seen him smile genuinely. "I'm getting to you." He announced.

"Get off my bed before I drag you off." Zayn was proud of himself for keeping his voice even, despite wanting to attack Liam.

Liam took his time getting down from the top bunk, and he leaned against the frame as Zayn climbed up. "Louis said you're refusing to jerk off in front of someone." He said, apropos of nothing.

Zayn choked. "What?"

Liam just shrugged.

"Y'know what, I don't know or even _like_ you enough to have this conversation with you." Zayn said firmly.

"I'm just saying, it's _unhealthy_ -"

Zayn threw his pillow at Liam, who caught it and smirked. "You're blushing."

Zayn rolled his eyes. "Secondhand embarrassment for you." He denied. God, his cheeks did feel warm.

Liam ducked down to crawl back into his bed, and it wasn't until a few minutes later that Zayn realized he still had his pillow.

"Give me my pillow back." Zayn leaned over the edge of his bunk to reach into Liam's space in an effort to grab his pillow. A moment later he felt a crushing pain in his hand, and he pulled back with a yelp. "You fucking bit me!" He yelled, cradling his hand as he peered at the red indents Liam's teeth had made on his skin.

"Don't touch me." Liam grunted in response.

Zayn gracelessly clambered down from his bed and deliberately crowded into Liam's space. "I want my pillow back." He said, with a kind of dogged determination.

"No." Liam shoved Zayn away with his foot.

Zayn hesitated, then climbed right onto Liam's bed, ignoring the stupidity of the action. If he was gonna be cellmates with this jerk, he might as well start taking the initiative.

"What the fuck are you doing? Get lost." Liam tried to kick him away again, but Zayn grabbed his ankle with one hand, reaching for the pillow with the other.

"Give me _my_ pillow and I'll leave you alone." Zayn said firmly.

Liam held the pillow further out of his reach, and managed to get his foot free and kick Zayn hard in the stomach.

Fucking _ow_. Zayn would almost rather room with a murderer. "Why are you even doing this?" He panted, clutching his belly. "I've known you for less than a day! I've done nothing wrong!"

"I don't play well with others." Liam snarled.

"Tough shit." Zayn hissed back, clawing at Liam's arms in an attempt to grab the pillow off him.

Liam suddenly grabbed Zayn's arms and flipped him over with terrifying ease, so Zayn was on his back and Liam was kneeling with one of his knees digging into Zayn's stomach, hands tight on his biceps.

Zayn sucked in his breath and squeezed his eyes shut. Oh god, what if he actually was a murderer? What if he strangled people? He should have just let him take the pillow. He was going to get killed over a fucking cushion.

He was busy enough stewing over his impending doom that it took him a couple of moments to realise that Liam hadn't moved, and he reluctantly opened his eyes.

Liam's breathing was a little ragged, and his eyes were dark as he glared down at Zayn. Glared? Zayn wasn't quite sure that's what Liam was doing. With a jolt, he realized that Liam was staring at his mouth.

Zayn shifted uneasily, trying to move away from the pressure of Liam's knee against his hip. Hold on, was that a knee..? Zayn stilled as he realized that Liam's dick was pressing against him, and more importantly, _hard_. Holy shit.

Liam's eyes were oddly intense, and Zayn squirmed under the scrutiny. Sure, Liam was hot, but Zayn wasn't really into the whole 'fuck someone you just met' thing. If Liam made a move Zayn was gonna have to gracefully decline and then from then on everything would be awkward as hell and filled with sexual tension.

Liam slowly, slowly started to lean forward, keeping the eye contact, and Zayn hurriedly sat up, narrowly avoiding clashing heads with him. Zayn slid out from beneath Liam, snagging his pillow as he did. It was exactly as tense and awful as he'd anticipated it would be.

Zayn didn't turn to see Liam's expression as he got back into his bunk, and after a few minutes he heard the movement of Liam lying down.

He'd fucked it up, hadn't he? Or, rather, _Liam_ had fucked it up. Though he supposed Liam didn't want him here anyway, so it didn't matter to him if they didn't get along. Fine. He'd just act like nothing had happened and he hated Liam's guts. No hardship there.

Zayn managed to drift off into a fitful sleep for a couple of hours, disoriented each time he woke up. When a guard came round to do the roll call, Zayn just managed to confirm his presence before turning over and burying himself in the blankets again.

When Zayn woke up, he couldn't tell what time it was, but the lights were out. It had to be sometime after eleven, then.  
Zayn stared up at the ceiling for a moment before he tried to pinpoint what it was that had woken him. The prison was quiet, thankfully, but he could just make out a quiet noise which he soon realized was the sound of skin on skin.

Now that he was focused on it, Zayn could make out the sounds of Liam's soft pants and his breath hitching as he jerked off. Then he heard the sound of a bottle lid clicking, and Liam's movements suddenly sounded much slicker.  
Zayn bit his lip as Liam moaned quietly, unwillingly turned on by the thought of the man jerking off less than two feet below him.

Liam's bed springs squeaked as he shifted a little, and Zayn was palming his own dick before he could stop himself.  
The slick, wet sounds sped up, and Liam moaned breathlessly, clearly not bothering to smother the sound.

Zayn kept slowly pushing his hips up into his hand, careful not to move too much and alert Liam to the fact that he was very much awake and getting off to the soundtrack of Liam's pleasure.

It wasn't much longer before Liam's breathing stuttered and he gasped, then gave a stifled moan, which Zayn only just managed to keep himself from echoing.

Liam's movements ceased completely, and the only noise was his heavy breathing.

Zayn abruptly jerked his hand away, coming back to his senses. He couldn't jerk off in front of and because of Liam. It was fucked up and weird and borderline creepy. He was just going to have to bear the blue balls.

Distantly, he heard Liam's content sigh and then the sound of blankets rustling as he presumably got under them.

Zayn settled back into his pillow with a feeling of disgust at his weakness, forcing himself to control his breathing in case he gave himself away. This was going to be a terribly long sentence.


	2. Liam the bitchy hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Niall's a busy man. Harry unwittingly puts Louis in a bad mood. Liam doesn't like Zayn wearing his clothes. Zayn doesn't know he should only have showers in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so sorry omg it's late. i stg it won't happen again!!
> 
> anyway i decided to split this chapter into two so it would be up quicker. the second part will be up within a week, hopefully in the next few days.
> 
> little bit of a warning, there is a bit here where rape almost happens?? almost. i refuse to write a rape scene, so that will never happen. but it comes kinda close. so. be aware.
> 
> so i hope you like the chapter and thanks sooo much for the comments, especially the lovely anon who asked for an update on tumblr. god bless

When Zayn woke up, for a blissful, brief moment he forgot he was in a prison cell.

Then Liam snored loudly below him, and the memories of the day before came rushing back. Being sentenced to five years in prison. Being escorted to his cell. Meeting and fighting with Liam. Almost kissing Liam. Almost _jerking off_ because of Liam. Jesus christ.

Zayn pulled his pillow over his head with a groan. Apprehension and fear coiled in his stomach. Today was gonna be his first full day in prison, and there was a shit ton of stuff to worry about. He had to stay out of trouble and learn the routine of jail and now he also had to tiptoe around his sexually charged cellmate.

Tentatively, Zayn shifted over to the ladder. Liam didn't stir, so he crept down to the floor.

The ladder creaked in the most god awful way, but thankfully Liam was still fast asleep, face mashed into the pillow. He was drooling a little, and Zayn turned away with a shudder. He noticed the chest of drawers beside Liam's bunk for the first time, and he padded over.

A little vindictive part of him hoped that it would contain Liam's personal belongings so that he could invade Liam's privacy, the same way that Liam had raked through Zayn's stuff. But when he opened the top drawer, all it contained was clean sets of uniform. A quick check in the other two drawers showed that they contained the same, as well as a few sets of clean underwear and socks.

Zayn pulled the neck of his shirt away from his body and stuck his nose in. He could probably do with a shower, but he reckoned he could survive not washing for another day. He could do with fresh clothes though.

A quick glance at Liam confirmed that he was still sleeping, so Zayn grabbed a new shirt and pants. He was fairly confident that Liam wouldn't be pleased if he caught Zayn stealing his clothes.  
He wasn't brave enough to steal a pair of boxers, sadly. He'd just have to live in his own sweat until someone got round to giving him clothes of his own. 

It didn't take long to change his pants, but just as he he yanked his shirt off, Liam snuffled, then Zayn jumped as he suddenly spoke. "Why are you wearing my clothes?" 

Zayn winced as he turned towards Liam. "I don't have any other clothes." He said, in what he felt was a reasonable voice. "I don't give a fuck." Liam snapped, pushing himself up on his forearms so he was in a better position to glare at Zayn. 

"I'm not putting dirty clothes back on." Zayn said, eyeing Liam apprehensively as he sat up. 

"Take them off." Liam demanded. 

Zayn gaped at him. "What? No." Was he imagining that Liam's eyes lingered on his torso? 

Liam slid out of bed and narrowed his eyes. The effect was lessened somewhat by his sleep-soft eyes, but his irritation was obvious. 

Zayn automatically took a step back, before scowling and stepping forwards. No matter how annoyed Liam looked, Zayn couldn't keep backing down if he wanted to earn even a fraction of Liam's respect. 

Liam advanced towards Zayn, looking incredibly threatening. 

Zayn hurriedly pulled the clean shirt on. If he was going to be beaten to a pulp, he didn't want to be topless when he got dragged off to the infirmary. 

Zayn was just bracing himself for the first hit when a cheery, "Morning!" rang out. 

Both Zayn and Liam turned, and Niall was standing at the cell door, unlocking it. "How was your first night?" He looked slightly apprehensive.

"Fine." Zayn said cautiously. He glanced at Liam. Liam looked annoyed and his fists were clenched, but it seemed a safe bet that he wouldn't pounce on Zayn while Niall was there.

Niall grinned as he came over to them. "Good. I thought you were a bit soft for jail, but you seem all right." He patted Zayn's shoulder.

Zayn struggled not to scowl, even as Liam tilted his head ever so slightly and smirked at him.

Niall seemed to only just notice just how close to each other Zayn and Liam were standing, and a peculiar expression flitted across his face. "Is something going on here?"

Liam seemed to suddenly regain his bad mood, and he crossed his arms. "He was stealing my clothes."

Niall groaned and slapped his forehead. "Ah, shit! I forgot to get you uniforms. I _knew_ I was missing something." He peered at his watch. "I can't take you today, but maybe Payne can-"

"I don't want to go anywhere with him." Zayn said loudly, at the same time that Liam burst out with, "I'm taking him fucking nowhere."

Niall looked startled. "Um, okay, so maybe I can find-"

"I'll take him." A new, vaguely familiar voice interrupted.

Zayn looked past Niall. Louis was leaning against the bars of his own open cell, and he wiggled his fingers in a wave when he caught Zayn's eye.

"Excellent." Niall rubbed his hands together, clearly relieved. "Tomlinson can take you after breakfast."

Louis loudly cleared his throat, and Niall looked around at him. "Which officer's on laundry room duty today?"

If Niall was surprised at the question, he didn't show it. "I dunno. Styles probably." He shrugged.

Louis just nodded, but Zayn caught the sharp little smile that pulled up one corner of his mouth before he turned away. 

"Well, I gotta go. Breakfast's almost here. I'd better get ahead of the crowds." Niall doffed an imaginary hat at Zayn before nodding at Liam and then leaving.

Zayn found Niall's behaviour around Liam odd. He seemed stiff and- not on edge, exactly, but definitely less at ease than he was with Zayn. It made him wonder how Liam usually behaved, if it made Niall act differently around him. Maybe he assaulted prison guards often. Maybe he'd killed one.  
God, Zayn would have to find out at some point.

Liam cast one more dirty look at Zayn before shoving him out of the way and opening the topmost drawer of the dresser. He ripped his shirt off in a very violent(hot) move that made his back muscles ripple. Then he slipped out of his pants.

It wasn't until Liam hooked his thumbs in his boxers that it occured to Zayn to look away before Liam turned around and realized that Zayn had been watching him strip. Zayn scooped up his dirty clothes and moved to shove them into his bunk. He could get them later, once he knew where the laundry room was.

Zayn hovered beside the bunk as long as he could, making his bed with unnecessary care. When he finally turned around, Liam was _still_ not dressed. He had pants on, sure, but he was still holding the shirt. And facing Zayn. Oh.

Zayn had a moment of indecision. If he stared, it would be weird. If he turned away, Liam would know he had an effect on Zayn. Shit.

In the end, Zayn opted for another plan of action entirely. He made a beeline for the door, therefore washing his hands of the situation completely.

Thankfully, he didn't have to awkwardly linger in the corridor for too long. Louis was sitting on the lower bunk in his cell, and he beckoned Zayn over with a frown. Zayn went gratefully.

"Why are you out already?" Louis asked curiously.

Zayn searched for a lie. He found none. "I just wanted to see what the other cells were like." He said vaguely. 

Louis leaned forwards off the bunk to squint into Liam's -and Zayn's now, he supposed- cell. Then he sat back and grinned in that unsettling way he had. "I see."

Zayn squirmed, uncomfortable in the knowledge that Louis knew fully well that Zayn hadn't left his cell to check out the scenery. 

"So, how are you doing?" Louis enquired. He was still smiling.

Zayn sat beside Louis and shrugged. "I've been better." He deadpanned.

Louis nodded, but he clearly had his mind on other things. Zayn could practically _see_ cogs turning in his head. When Louis sat up, he braced himself, fully expecting something unpleasant.

"How's your roomie?"

Zayn blinked. "He's...fine, I guess."

Louis seemed to be staring intently at his face. God, this was intense. "Do you like him?"

Zayn bit back the instinctive _no_. Probably best to avoid badmouthing Liam until he figured out what his and Louis' relationship was. "We're very different people." He hedged.

"So, no. You don't like him, but you don't want to tell me that in case I'm friends with him and decide to fuck you up over it." Louis guessed.

Huh. Zayn blinked at him. "Yeah." He admitted.

Louis shrugged his shoulders. "Nah, man. Liam's a big boy, he can fight his own battles." He crossed his legs and leaned forwards with the air of someone preparing for a good gossip. "What do you _actually_ think of him?"

"Think of who?" Liam's voice came as a shock, and Zayn was ashamed to admit that he jumped.

Louis was unruffled. "Harry." He said lightly.

Liam snorted, still standing in(and blocking) the doorway. "He's dreamy." He said sarcastically.

"No he's not." Louis frowned. "He's interfering."

"He's managed to stop you getting sent to solitary like, five times." Liam pointed out.

Louis crossed his arms in a show of petulance. "Maybe I enjoy the opportunity to be by myself."

Liam shook his head. "You just fucking look for confrontations." He muttered.

Zayn felt a little out of the loop. Who was Harry? Why was Louis so set against him? Why was Liam here?

Luckily Zayn didn't have to stew over these questions for too long, because the bell for breakfast rang, and they all stood up to go.

"Ladies first." Louis said mockingly, bowing to Zayn.

Zayn moved towards the door, but Liam was still in the way. He noticed that Liam's expression had changed from amused to annoyed when he had made eye contact with Zayn. On the bright side, at least he was affecting Liam to some degree.

Liam held his stare for a moment before he abruptly turned and moved into the flow of prisoners heading to breakfast.

Zayn followed slowly, mindful of getting crushed between the hungry men.

"C'mon, hurry up, we haven't got all bloody day," Louis huffed behind him.

Zayn only had the briefest of moments to feel alarmed as he felt Louis' hands land on his back and shove. He went flailing into the crowd, smacking up against Liam's(well muscled, but that's not important) back.

Liam swung around with a snarl, stopping. His eyebrows lifted as he realised who his attacker was. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" He demanded.

Zayn instinctively rose to the challenge, giving in to the urge to snap back. "It was a fucking accident!"

"Oi, fucking _move_ up there, asshole!" Someone behind them yelled angrily.

Liam's eyes lifted from Zayn and he looked over the crowd, scanning for whoever shouted. When he found the guy, he went over to him with a dangerously slow saunter.

"Oh- Payne, I didn't- I didn't realise-" The guy tried to laugh it off, but he pressed himself against the wall when Liam smiled along with him.

Zayn noticed most of the other prisoners had started moving again, very few of them paying any heed to what was going on.

Liam idly traced the tattoo on the man's neck before he calmly took hold of his throat and slowly started to lift him up with one hand, leaning the guy against the wall for a better grip.

The man sucked in a panicky, choked breath.

"What, uh, what makes you think you can talk to me like that?" Liam asked casually.

"I didn't know it was you, I swear-" The man rushed to explain, cut off when Liam tightened his hold.

Zayn felt Louis taking hold of his shoulders. "Move along, now." He murmured.

"Why?" Zayn asked.

"We're witnesses." Came Louis' terse reply.

Zayn started walking again. Prison was fucked up.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Breakfast was almost the same as dinner. All that was on offer was some kind of shitty porridge, along with a glass of orange juice. With _pulp_. He had been right. These people _were_ animals.

But Zayn didn't have the luxury of better food, so he scarfed it down, ignoring the way the texture of the porridge made his throat convulse. The orange juice, he choked his way past. God, he hated pulp.

It was almost a relief when he looked up to see Louis looming over him. Well, looming as much as he could, given that he wasn't a particularly big guy. Whatever.

"Ready to get your new clothes?" Louis asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Yeah," Zayn stood, abandoning his tray. "I just need to get my dirty clothes."

"The cells are en route anyway." Louis assured him. He lead the way out, and Zayn couldn't help but notice the speculative looks that were thrown his way by the other inmates. They probably thought he was Louis' bitch, and that he was fucking him for protection. Well, if it kept him out of trouble, he didn't give a shit what the other inmates thought.

The cell was empty when they got there, Liam nowhere to be seen. Zayn refrained from asking Louis where he might be, because he had a feeling the answer would be accompanied by a smirk.

Zayn grabbed his dirty clothes and followed Louis down the corridor, the way he'd first came into the prison. Louis turned off down a side corridor, past what looked like a common room and a hall of some sort. At the end of the corridor was the laundry room, with the door open.

The room was filled with washing machines and tumble dryers, some stacked on top of each other, which looked totally safe, by the way.

At the moment, the room only had three other guys aside from them, but Zayn had a feeling it would fill up a lot more when work hours officially started.

Louis wandered over to an empty washing machine and opened it, gesturing for Zayn to dump his clothes in. Zayn did so, then Louis hopped up to sit on top of the machine, kicking his heels against the sides. "You been assigned work yet?"

"Nope." Zayn copied Louis and sat on the dryer beside him.

Louis grinned. "Great, you can spend the day working here."

Zayn supposed there were worse jobs to be assigned. "Fun." He said unenthusiastically.

"Nah, it's fine, it can be a right laugh sometimes. It's easy work." Louis informed him. "And it's indoors. Warm."

"What other work is there?" Zayn asked.

Louis tilted his head. "Gardening, repairing stuff, kitchen work, cleaning, working in the library, shit like that. I dunno."

Another man walked into the room and it was immediately clear that he was a guard. He was in uniform and his nametag read: _H. Styles_. He didn't look the type to be a guard, though. He looked young, about the same age as Niall, and he was lanky, with dark curly hair and green eyes.

He was pretty, Zayn supposed, objectively. He wasn't Zayn's type, but he could see the appeal.

Louis sat up at his side, ceasing the kicking. "Harry." He said, and Zayn couldn't tell from his tone whether he was pleased or not.

Harry certainly looked pleased to see Louis. "I told you, you're not allowed to call me that." He was smiling, though.

Wait, was this the Harry that Louis had been bitching about just an hour or so ago?

Louis grinned. "What are you going to do, spank me?"

And _wow_ that was flirting. What? Zayn had gotten the impression that Louis found Harry annoying. Yet here he was, coyly asking if he was gonna get fucking _spanked_.

Harry didn't seem to mind too much. He shook his head at Louis, with a kind of exasperated fondness. Then he switched his gaze to Zayn.

Louis noticed that he had lost Harry's full attention and he looked over at Zayn. "This is Zayn, my new _friend_."

What was with the weird emphasis on the word 'friend'?

Louis threw his arm over Zayn's shoulders. That was a little too chummy for his taste.

But Zayn didn't want to start shit with Louis on his second day, so he just smiled tightly.

Harry was giving Zayn a funny look. "What's your surname?"

"Uh, Malik." Zayn said cautiously.

"Aren't you rooming with Payne?" Harry asked.

Zayn frowned. Did all of the guards just know who was rooming with who? Or did they just take a special interest in Liam's cellmates because they were always in danger of being brutally murdered?  
"Yeah, I am."

Harry's expression was something between sympathy and pity. It was extremely unsettling.

Louis saved the situation. "Are you on laundry today?"

Harry nodded. "Yep. Babysitting duty."

"Bloody rude." Louis muttered, which made Harry smile.

A bell rang, and Harry's posture changed completely. He straightened up and moved off to stand beside the wall, clearly ready for work.

Louis made a little huffing noise and slid down off the washing machine.

Zayn got down off the dryer, lost in thought. Had Louis genuinely flirted with Harry? Or was he just like that with everyone? Harry had certainly not discouraged him.

"What the fuck are you looking at me like that for?" Louis' voice snapped him out of it and Zayn realised he'd been staring at him.

"Sorry, I spaced out." Zayn said hastily. He had a suspicion that if he asked Louis about Harry he'd get knocked out.

Louis narrowed his eyes, but he didn't question further. He reached down beside the washing machine and retrieved a linen sack, filled with dirty laundry, which he shoved at Zayn. "Seperate underwear and socks from uniforms."

"Do the inmates really care if their boxers are washed with their uniforms?" Zayn asked, skeptical.

Louis looked him dead in the eye. "I care."

Zayn backed down quickly, shrugging.

Louis opened the washing machine. "Underwear goes in this one," he moved over to another, "and uniforms go in _this_ one. Got it?"

"Got it." Zayn would have saluted if he hadn't had his arms full of sweaty clothes.

"Good." Louis looked satisfied. He wandered off as more inmates filed into the room, presumably to bully them into doing the laundry the correct way.

Zayn tipped the bag upside down and all the clothes spilled out over the floor. He dropped to his knees and began to sort through them, putting uniforms in one pile and underwear and socks in another.

"You'll have to excuse Louis, he's kind of anal about a lot of things." A voice came from above him, and Zayn looked up to see Harry smiling down at him.

"Yeah, he's a real character." Zayn muttered darkly, picking out another pair of dirty socks.

Harry laughed. "It's not his fault. He wasn't like this when he first got here. Prison changed him."

Zayn looked up again, curious. "Really?"

"Yeah." Harry nodded. "He was much quieter. But a few weeks into his sentence, some bad stuff happened-"

"Talking about me, are we?" Louis' voice startled them both. Zayn was surprised to see that his normally cheerful face was twisted into an ugly scowl.

Harry flushed and shuffled his feet. "I was just saying-"

"Well, don't." Louis' voice was cold. "Don't ever talk about me."

Harry looked surprisingly hurt, for a prison guard being rebuked by an inmate. Zayn had expected him to shrug it off and scoff at Louis, but he just offered a stiff nod and walked away to the other side of the room.

Louis swivelled his head slowly to watch Harry go, and Zayn quickly ducked his head, embarrassed. He hadn't really actively sought out information about Louis, but he had been curious, and he hadn't even considered it an invasion of Louis' privacy.

"Sorry." Zayn said, in the direction of the socks. Louis didn't respond. When Zayn looked up, Louis was gone from the room, and Harry was looking towards the door with a crease in between his eyebrows.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Aside from the thing with Harry and Louis, Zayn's work hours were uneventful. He kept to himself, washing and drying clothes with the kind of focus that only being in a room of strangers can bring. Louis didn't return, and Zayn steered clear of Harry as well, feeling it was best to avoid the matter entirely.

When yet another bell rang, Zayn looked up at the clock on the wall. 11:45. So lunch was in fifteen minutes, right?  
He slammed the dryer closed, grabbed a few clean sets of clothes for himself and left with everyone else, grateful for a break.

When Zayn got back to the cell, Liam was sprawled out on the bottom bunk, flipping through one of Zayn's borrowed comics. Zayn chose not to comment.

Liam looked up and wrinkled his nose. "You stink."

"Washing powder accident." Zayn said shortly. He had managed to tip powder all over himself, and the scent of lavender and chamomile was still clinging to him. It wasn't a particularly unpleasant smell, but it was rather strong.

Zayn very deliberately avoided looking at Liam as he went over to the dresser and opened the middle drawer. With one arm, he moved all of the clothes in there to the top drawer and dumped the clean clothes in.

As just about anyone could predict, Liam didn't take long to protest. "What the hell do you think you're doing, messing with my stuff?"

Zayn sighed. "I need somewhere to keep my clothes."

"Then put in a request for a dresser of your own." Liam said, almost reasonably.

"Fine, I will. But in the meantime, my stuff's staying in this drawer." Zayn said evenly.

Liam pushed himself up a little and looked like he was going to argue.

"I'm letting you read _my_ comic." Zayn pointed out. "So just grit your teeth and bear it for a few days."

Miracle of all miracles, Liam didn't protest. He rolled over onto his back and carried on reading the comic, effectively blocking out Zayn.

"So, what happened with that guy earlier?" Zayn asked casually.

Liam turned another page of the comic. "Why do you care?"

"I don't." Zayn said immediately.

"Good." Came the response.

Zayn half-heartedly tried to shake more washing powder from his shirt. The powder was making his chest itch, and he decided it would be a good idea to have a shower before dinner.

He got fresh clothes from his(suck it, Liam) drawer and headed out to hunt for the showers.

Lucky for him, he had only just stepped out of his cell when he spotted a man shuffling down the corridor, clutching a towel. He looked dry, so it seemed a reasonable assumption that he was on his way to get a shower.

Zayn followed at a safe distance, towards the dinner hall. The man turned down another corridor, which hadng't previously noticed before. This new corridor led to the shower room, which was more or less just two rows of eight showers, and a few benches in the middle of the room. Several shower stalls were occupied, but Zayn was sure that more inmates would come along once lunch actually started.

Zayn grabbed a towel from the pile beside the door and chose a shower as far away from the door as he could. Thankfully each stall had a door with a lock, even if the lock did look flimsy.

He'd been in there for about five minutes when the bell for lunch rang. Zayn made no attempt to hurry up, knowing that the longer he waited to go to lunch, the shorter the queue would be. 

Zayn took his sweet time in soaping himself up, steadfastly refusing to give into the temptation to jerk off. It would be weak to give in. Weak. Even if he probably needed the relief.

In the end, Zayn was in the shower for a good half hour before he couldn't ignore his rumbling stomach any more.  
Reluctantly, he pulled the towel down off the door and wrapped it around his waist, then warily cracked open the stall door. His clothes were still on the bench, but several men were standing around, in various states of undress, chatting to each other.

Zayn swallowed. He couldn't just hang around waiting for them to fuck off, if he wanted to get any lunch If anything happened, he might be able to fight them off. He was strong, right?

So Zayn made an effort to look confident, and he walked out of the stall. Of course, he ran into a problem almost immediately when he had to speak to the men to get them out the way.

"Excuse me." He said politely.

All of the men turned to him, and Zayn fought the urge to bolt. He could practically _see_ the cogs turning in their heads.

The biggest guy smiled, and not in an altogether friendly way. Frankly, it was fucking unsettling. "How can we help you, sweetheart?"

Okay, no. Zayn is not anyone's sweetheart. Come on, there's no way he was small or feminine enough to be considered prey.

But right now Zayn was facing four almost naked men, and he didn't feel like he was in a position to protest.

"I need to get my clothes." Zayn was painfully formal, knowing that one mistake could get him fucked over completely.

The main guy made a show of looking Zayn up and down. "No, I don't think you do." He said with a lecherous smile.

Was that a threat? Or a shitty attempt at flirting?

Zayn smiled awkwardly. "I really do."

One of the other guys stepped forwards with a fuck ugly pout. "Aw, you don't wanna spend some time with us?"

No.

"I'd really like to get Iunch." Zayn said through his teeth.

Yet another of the men laughed. "I think you'd have a better time with us, love."

"Uh, I'd rather go to lunch, if that's okay." Zayn said. Okay, so it was a rejection, but it was a very fucking polite rejection, thank you very much.

Apparently the group of men didn't think so. "What, we're not good enough for you?" The main guy puffed himself up with a scowl.

Never in a million years.

"No, no, it's not that, it's just-" Zayn protested.

"I think we should teach this punk that he's not _better_ than us, huh, lads?" The fourth guy piped up. He was smaller than the other guys, with sunken, mean little eyes.

Zayn automaticalIy backed up a little, but the group followed him.

"I think that's a beautiful idea." The main guy grinned. It was predatory, but not in the playful way that Zayn had come to associate with Louis.

Zayn clutched at his towel protectively. It's only just kicking in that this is real, this is happening, and fear flooded through Zayn. He looked around for an escape route, but the men were closing in around him and he was frozen, unable to speak.

He almost cried with relief when Liam appeared behind the men.

"What's going on here?" Liam asked pleasantly, looking around the five men. His eyes caught on Zayn's briefly before moving on.

"We were just about to teach pretty boy here that he doesn't get to look down his nose at us." Number four touched Zayn's cheek, and Zayn jerked away, causing the men to laugh.

Liam smiled, but his eyes were cold. "He's my cellmate, you know."

The effect his words had on the men would have been comical if Zayn hadn't been so fucking tense. They all backed off immediately, turning pale and rushing to apologize.

"We didn't know, Liam," the leader said quickly. "We thought he was fair game."

"Don't call me that." Liam ordered him. He turned to Zayn, who was still pressed against the wall. "Get dressed."

Zayn was too shocked to question him, so he grabbed his clean boxers and pulled them on under his towel, then yanked his shirt on, then finally his socks and shoes. Liam watched him the whole time, which was a little unnerving, but the guy had just rescued Zayn, so he didn't bother about it too much.

Once Zayn was dressed, Liam grabbed his clothes and towel and handed them to Zayn, then led the way out. Zayn hurried after him. Unfortunately, the first thing out his mouth, instead of thanks, was, "why did they react like that when you said I was your cellmate?"

Liam ignored his question. "Why the fuck didn't you take a shower at breakfast?"

Zayn couldn't resist sniping back. "Nobody told me I should." He said waspishly.

"It's fucking common sense." Liam sighed deeply.

"Yeah? Why did you turn up and save me?" Zayn challenged him.

Liam barely even glanced at him. "I don't like rape." He snapped.

So now he gets all moral. Jesus fucking christ. Only yesterday he'd cheerfully told Zayn there was every chance he'd get raped.

"Were you going to shower?" Zayn asked him.

Liam sniffed. "No. After I ate lunch I realized you were probably fucking dumb enough to go for a shower at lunchtime. So I thought I'd better go get you before you came crying back to the cell covered in spunk."

Well, Liam could have worded that better. But. "Thanks." Zayn said lamely.

Liam nodded, then narrowed his eyes at Zayn. "This doesn't mean we're friends."

It was Zayn's turn to sniff. "I don't want to be your friend."

Liam shrugged, waIking into their cell.

Zayn followed. He hung his dirty clothes and damp towel over the end of his bed, deciding that he would take them to the laundry room tomorrow. He couldn't face another trip out today.

Thinking about laundry reminded him of Louis, and he checked the cell opposite. It was empty. Louis was probably still at lunch.

Fuck. Lunch. There couldn't be long left. Was there any point in going?

Zayn mournfully decided to wait until dinner. At least then he would just be able to wolf down the repulsive meal. But it seemed for now he had four hours or so of free time, so he opted to take what he felt was a well deserved nap.

Zayn climbed up into his bed and flopped down face first on top of the covers with a sigh.

"Quit it, you're making my bed shake," Liam complained from the bunk below.

"Shut the fuck up, Liam." Zayn mumbled into his pillow.

Liam didn't deign to respond, and Zayn drifted off into the blissful darkness in minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope that wasn't too shitty. keep an eye out for the next chapter, yeah?
> 
> the plan is for actual proper larry stuff in chapter 4, and i have no idea when smut's gonna happen, sorry.
> 
> if you see errors tell me pls i'm tired and miss stuff
> 
> comments are a huuuuge motivation, i love hearing opinions.
> 
> talk to me on [tumblr](http://birdismostdefinitelytheword.tumblr.com) pls i'm lonely


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